


you’re listening for a song that I don’t know, that no one has yet sung

by tigriswolf



Series: Methos adopts all the people [20]
Category: Glee, Highlander - All Media Types, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Canonical Character Death, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Violence, timelines what timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burt Hummel hadn’t thought of his father-in-law in a long time.  Not since Kaitlyn died, at least.  They’d met twice, at the wedding and Kurt’s birth, and only Uncle Joe’s old stories explained away how young <i>Call me Matt</i> looked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you’re listening for a song that I don’t know, that no one has yet sung

**Author's Note:**

> Title: you’re listening for a song that I don’t know, that no one has yet sung  
> Fandom: Highlander/Glee  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov  
> Warnings: AUish after “Born This Way” for Glee; post-series for Highlander; the timelines may not exactly match up—I *handwave* this away, as is my right as author; character death  
> Pairings: Kurt/Blaine; (very) pre-Kurt/Puck; one-sided Karofsky/Kurt; Burt/Carole; Rachel/Finn; implied Methos/Kronos  
> Rating: PG  
> Point of view: third  
> Notes: originally for pprfaith; maldeluxx then got me to thinking about a continuation, wanted either boy’s pov, and then a gleek future!pov 
> 
>  
> 
> Another note: written in 2011, before I really started shipping Kurt/Blaine. Also, I barely watched season 4 and haven’t see anything after it.

Burt Hummel hadn’t thought of his father-in-law in a long time. Not since Kaitlyn died, at least. They’d met twice, at the wedding and Kurt’s birth, and only Uncle Joe’s old stories explained away how young _Call me Matt_ looked.

Knowing that Kaitlyn had been raised by an immortal explained a great deal about her. She accepted oddities out-of-hand, passed on three languages to Kurt with ease, and she told their boy, _be anything you want to be, my love_.

Kaitlyn’s father didn’t go to the funeral. Burt got a postcard and a large sum of money in his bank account, too much to ever spend. He used it mainly for Kurt’s clothes, and then Dalton.

He never talked about Kaitlyn’s family. Matt would have mentioned if Kurt was like him. Burt was pretty sure that Kurt knew his grandparents’ names (Matthew and Victoria Adamson), but no more. What Kurt didn’t know: Matt wasn’t Kaitlyn’s biological father. She was an infant when they married. And when Victoria died not long after (the same cancer that killed her daughter), Matt kept Kaitlyn and traveled the world with her. She was beautiful and cultured, and Burt never could figure out why she chose him, a guy who got out of Lima for one year of college before giving up to go home.

Kurt was so much like his mother.

So, yeah, Burt hadn’t thought of Matt in a decade when his father-in-law drove a piece of shit car into his garage.

“Sorry it’s been so long,” he said, leaning against the car. “There was some drama I had to deal with before I could visit.” There was a private meaning to the twist of his smile, but Burt didn’t even try to figure it out. Matt still looked like a college student, of course, only a few years older than Kurt. Like Burt could break him in two.

“How’s the kid?” he asked. “Should be sixteen, seventeen now, right?”

Burt straightened, growled, “You aren’t taking him.”

Matt scoffed. “Of course I’m not.” He rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t think you were a good father, I’d have grabbed him when Katie died.”

“Okay then,” Burt said. “Kurt’s been better.”

Matt’s sharp eyes studied Burt carefully, clearly assessing that. “I need to talk to both of you,” Matt told him quietly.

Burt almost thought he was having another heart-attack. “He can’t be like you,” he hissed, dragging Matt into the office. “Uncle Joe told me how it works: all immortals are foundlings. I was there for Kurt’s birth!”

Matt’s smile was sad. “That’s the story, Burt. Doesn’t make it true. Your son is your son, and he’s the son of a girl I loved like I’d sired her myself.” He reached out to clutch Burt’s shoulder. “Headhunters are forming gangs again. They will stalk and kill anyone they can. They’ll kill Katie’s boy to wake him up, and then take his head.”

Burt swallowed, somewhere between horror and rage. “What—what can I do, Matt?” he asked.

Matt smiled again, even sadder. “Telling him won’t help. But I’ll stay. I’ll be his teacher—self-defense, martial arts, whatever he needs. No immortal will enter this town without me knowing it.”

Uncle Joe had told Burt the legends of immortals. How most of them could fight, but almost all died young. Few lived to five hundred years. Fewer still lived to see a thousand.

The eyes looking at Burt were very old. Burt wouldn’t say the name, but he could think of no one better to watch over his son.

“Kurt had trouble with bullying,” Burt said. “I think someone from his mother’s family decided to visit and help him.”

Matt grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

They headed back to the car, hashed out the details. Kurt would stop in on the way home to remind Burt about his date with Blaine later that night. He’d probably either complain or praise something that happened in glee club, grumble about Karofsky, and order Burt to have a salad with supper.

Burt noticed when Matt lifted his head to watch the entrance; Finn’s friend with the mohawk sauntered in.

“’sup, Mr. H?” Mohawk called.

Matt looked at Burt and raised an eyebrow. “Another student, then,” he said.

Burt groaned. 

 

\----

 

Methos had planned for the kids to be well into their twenties before their first deaths. He’s been teaching Katie’s son and the mohawked punk for a month: basic self defense and some forms no one else in the world remembers, so no one will be able to counter.

He’s calling himself Matt, a common enough name, and playing at Katie’s nephew, searching for family. A black belt in four martial arts. Being paid in room and board to teach his cousin Kurt how to protect himself. The mohawked punk— _Puck_ , of all the silly names—dropped in, curious, one day (and that may have been Matt’s doing). He stayed because he’d never seen anyone fight like Hummel’s cousin. (There’s a good reason for that, of course, and one day, they might even learn it.)

A month in, Matt’s running late. He’d gotten caught up in some drama, nothing that will bother the kids, and he’s heading to the garage when he feels Puck to the south. Puck has no business being in the bad part of town fifteen minutes into their training time—and then Puck is _gone_.

The Matt-mask is dropped and Death stalks down the street, tearing into the half dozen men who just killed his student. 

When he’s done, he’s the only thing living on that particular corner.

Matt carries Puck to his car and then returns for the bodies. He stuffs them all into his trunk, breaking bones to make them all fit. They seem like the rough sort, hopefully that no one will miss. They clearly only got Puck because of superior numbers; with time, Puck could even rival MacLeod, but he is still just a boy. Now, he’ll forever be a boy. Damnit.

0o0

Seven hours after he dies on the street in the middle of an unfair brawl, Noah Puckerman wakes up and groans. “What?” he asks, looking around. He recognizes the room: Matt’s been staying here, in the small apartment attached to the garage.

There’s an incessant pounding in his head; it grows louder and louder, then Matt steps into sight and it fades.

“Welcome back,” Matt says. “It’d have been nice of you to wait a little longer, you know.”

Puck stares at him, memories rushing though his mind. “I don’t hurt at all,” he says. “I should hurt a whole hell of a fucking lot. Coulda sworn I died.”

Matt’s smile is gentle. Puck’s seen him give that look to Hummel a couple times, but nothing close to it has ever been directed at Puck.

“You did die, kid,” he says.

Puck closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto the bed. He feels Matt come close, feels his hand strong on Puck’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright,” he says softly. He sounds so sure. “I’ve done this before—I’ll take care of you.”

“I died,” Puck whispers. “Fucking hell.”

Matt sits down next to him and pulls Puck into a hug. Puck hasn’t been held in… forever. Not since he got bigger than Ma. And when he starts crying, Matt just holds him tighter.

0o0

In the morning, Puck doesn’t go to school. Matt explains everything to him, including how Hummel is like them. Puck had already felt protective of the gleek, because of his utter failure last time, so he says, “I’ll watch out for him, Teach.”

Matt smiles at him, the warm one Hummel gets when he does a move correctly. 

Hummel’s actually surprisingly good at martial arts. He muttered about dancing and cheering when Puck mentioned it.

“I want Kurt to grow as much as possible,” Matt says. “You look like a man, even if you are only seventeen. But Kurt?”

Puck winces. “Yeah,” he says. “I see what you mean.”

0o0

That afternoon, they meet in the backroom of the garage. Puck barely even notices Matt’s buzz anymore, but Hummel’s pre-immi one is… enticing. Fluttery like a hummingbird. Puck can scarcely concentrate and Hummel actually manages to dump him on his ass.

Matt smirks and Hummel grins up at him. “Good job, kid,” he says. “Now, do it again while Puck pays attention.”

So Puck flips up to his feet and ignores Hummel’s baby buzz till it goes away.

He swears to himself and Matt and Hum- _Kurt_ that Kurt won’t die at seventeen. He’ll get taller still and stop looking like a little kid and he’ll have the life he’s been dreaming about, if Puck has to kill every immortal in the world. Kurt could be something great, and Puck wants that for him.

When Kurt decides to take a break, Matt meets Puck’s eyes and nods to the middle of the room. “I have a trick to show you,” he says. “Only my students know it, and those are rare indeed.”

Puck grins and hurries to him.

A new component is added to the regimen that day: swordplay.

0o0

Puck isn’t there the day Azimio learns about Karofsky being a homo. Puck doesn’t see Azimio slam Kurt into a locker so hard his head breaks.

Kurt dies alone in a locker room and wakes up to Karofsky’s tearstained face.

Puck’s too young to feel a pre-immortal die and become immortal. But Methos feels it. He meets Kurt in the parking lot, where Karofsky is helping him to his car. Kurt stumbles when he feels Methos’ buzz for the first time. 

“I’ve got him,” Methos says, taking Kurt from Karofsky.

“He was outta it,” Karofsky says. “He needs the hospital.”

Methos looks at him. “I’ve got Kurt now,” he says, letting Death peek out.

Karofsky nods, leaving with a lingering look at Kurt.

Kurt, who’s staring at Methos with wide eyes. “I died,” he says. “I know I died.”

Methos pulls him in close, presses a kiss to the crown of his head. He was there at Kurt’s birth. He’d sworn to keep Kurt safe, for Katie and himself.

“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs. “I’ll tell you everything there.”

And he’ll kick Puck’s ass, then let Puck kick his, for this utter clusterfuck of failure.

0o0

Methos doesn’t sleep that night. He watches Kurt and Puck, curled around each other like he and Kronos had, the first night they trusted each other, almost four thousand years ago. He hopes these two, his boys, have a happier ending. He calls Burt as the sun rises.

He owes the man a better explanation than _training ran late_.

He’ll let Burt kick his ass, too. 

…

When his mom’s nephew shows up and is a blackbelt in everything ever, Kurt doesn’t think too much about it. Matt is on a quest to reconnect with his family and Dad’s been looking for someone to train Kurt in self-defense. Win-win all around.

Puck hanging around is a surprise at first, until Kurt realizes that Puck will take any opportunity to learn how to kick ass. And Matt _knows_ how to kick ass.

Matt is funny, at times bitingly so. He doesn’t take it easy on Kurt, and for the first few months it hurts—Matt is more demanding than Coach Sylvester at her worst, which Kurt would never have believed possible.

One night, Puck and Matt both miss the lesson. Neither calls. Kurt is too relieved to worry about it until the next morning, but then both are there that afternoon, and Matt introduces _sword drills_. Kurt grumbles about it, but he hasn’t gotten his way yet, and he doesn’t this time, either.

And then comes a second encounter in the locker room, and Azimio’s rage is so out of the blue—there has been no bullying since Kurt’s return to McKinley, and Azimio catches him off-guard.

One hard shove is all it takes. Kurt’s head slams into the locker and breaks. Kurt doesn’t even know he’s died till he wakes up to Karofsky crying. Karofsky refuses to let him go as he walks out of the school, stumbling in shock because he _knows_. He feels fine, better than, but he knows.

Matt’s face confirms it. And his gentle hands, his bittersweet touch. They don’t talk on the way home, and Matt tucks him into bed like a child, with murmured apologies and a kiss on the brow. Puck arrives and Kurt turns into him when he stretches out at Kurt’s side.

Kurt feels them both, Puck and Matt, in his head. Matt is ginormous, all-encompassing, like a deep pool of water engulfing him whole. Puck is a light spring rain, just enough to know it’s there.

Mat tells them to rest, that he’ll call Dad. So Kurt just lays his head on Puck’s shoulder and pretends he doesn’t know, that nothing has changed. His dreams are terrifying, and he wakes to Puck holding him and humming a lullaby.

“It’ll get better,” Puck whispers. “I promise.”

Kurt believes him. 

…

Rachel spent ten years on Broadway. She called Mercedes once and told her that she’d seen Puck and Kurt after a show.

Kurt was a mystery to everyone who knew him in Lima. He’d broke up with Blaine the summer between junior and senior year, graduated top of their class, gone to NYU, graduated top of his class there—and vanished. He still called and emailed, but hadn’t been home in five years. Finn said he called his father the most, once or twice a week, and he emailed Finn little tidbits about his life.

Puck disappeared after graduation, but Finn said he sent money home to his mom and sister, which was more than his father ever had.

But one night, Rachel told Mercedes, who shared the story with everyone else, Rachel was leaving after a performance and saw Kurt leaning against the wall outside, smiling at someone whose face Rachel couldn’t see. Broad shoulders, yes, and adorably curly hair, and a deep laugh that sounded familiar. 

Kurt caught her eye and smiled, then his companion turned and it took Rachel a moment to recognize Noah Puckerman. They both still looked so young, like they were in McKinley’s halls again.

Noah winked at her, Kurt smiled again, and they were gone.

“She probably just saw two boys who looked like ‘em,” Mercedes said to Quinn at their monthly lunch.

“Most likely,” Quinn replied, and the conversation moved on. 

…

Dad dies in a car accident when Kurt is thirty-five. Kurt goes home for the funeral, carefully disguising himself to look his actual age. Noah doesn’t join him.

Kurt holds Carole and Finn while they grieve and tries not to have a breakdown. He stays for three days, taking care of the family he hasn’t seen in over a decade, not since he graduated college. He has three more degrees now, and a dozen different names.

He hasn’t aged a day since he was seventeen. In their grief and pain and fury at the senselessness of Dad’s death, no one notices.

0o0

When Kurt is forty-six, Carole has a stroke. Finn calls him in a panic and Kurt goes running. If everyone wasn’t so worried, they’d notice he looks thirty years too young.

Carole dies. Kurt arranges everything with Rachel’s help. He hugs Finn goodbye and leaves right after he sees Finn home.

0o0

Kurt is eighty-three when Finn dies in his sleep. He is the last of Kurt’s friends. Kurt pretends to be his own grandson for the funeral and claims his father and grandfather are too ill to travel.

Noah goes home with him this time. They stand in the back of the room and hold hands. Before they leave, they visit the graves of everyone they’ve loved and outlived.

“I would’ve come with you,” Kurt says softly as Noah traces the name on his sister’s stone.

“I know,” Noah says.

0o0

Matt calls them his boys. Kurt calls him Matt until he changes his name, and then calls him whatever that is until the next time. Kurt never loses track of anyone’s identity and Noah leaves him in charge of that part of their lives. Noah calls their teacher _Old Man_ , never anything else.

When they’re three hundred and twelve and barely recognize the world anymore, their teacher (named Adam today) takes them to an old sanctuary in the mountains, a place of stone forgotten by time.

Nathaniel and Karl are shed; Noah and Kurt hold each other close and remember when they were children, before swords and before lightning, before Death and his lessons, before they never aged anymore.

0o0

“When were you young?” Kurt asked his teacher once.

The man he still called Matt laughed then and said, “Oh, my dear, a long time ago.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fic DVD Commentaries](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795196) by [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf)




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